


Surprise Visitation

by AgentGhosten



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Fixation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Rough Sex, Trans Character, sauron is a shapeshifter lets not forget that, the Void is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 02:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20752910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentGhosten/pseuds/AgentGhosten
Summary: Sauron visits his master in Utumno after being away in Angband. (or rather, it's a conjugal visit*, even if he didn't want to admit to it)





	Surprise Visitation

**Author's Note:**

> While none of these characters are necessarily trans, I added a "Trans Character" tag to foreshadow a scene that I didn't know how else to describe... Who says gods can't shake things up a bit anyways?

Two lords altercate through the great halls of Utumno, who passed Orcs and other hellbeasts, those of which paused to bow before Melkor’s returned lieutenant Sauron with astonishment of his unannounced return. The Vala was merry despite conflict, and carelessly waved a wrist in dismissal of Sauron’s haughty remarks, much to the Maia’s growing vexation. Lieutenant was he who took his job very seriously, and though he bowed in Melkor’s presence, he all too often had to keep his master in line when too much fun was being had. He followed the raven-haired god in vain, deeper in to Utumno’s depths, winding about through halls and stairs seemingly without his desperate words being heard. But before he knew next, they appeared in Melkor’s bed chambers. How it was so Sauron knew not, for the twists and turns of the halls should not have led it to be so. He stopped his speech abruptly, to which Melkor turned to glance at him as if he were none the wiser of their sudden whereabouts.

“What brings you pause, silvertongue?” the dark lord inquired. While his face lacked expression, his lieutenant could hear the zeal in his tone as apparent as Varda’s stars in the sky. The Maia was hence choked up and falling a fair shade of rose on his cheeks. In his mind, he pondered if this was his master’s plan all along to drag him to the bed chambers, which would mean he already knew why Sauron had come. 

Melkor sat upon the end of his bed, then gazed upon Sauron with a look that almost seemed to touch the Maia physically, making his blood feel so much warmer as it rushed through his veins of fire.  
“Tell me,” his lord spoke, a smirk pulling at his lips. “What is the true nature of your generous visit?”  
And Sauron knew he had been discovered, for Melkor was always able to read him so easily. The master of deception was nothing under the dark gaze of Melkor and Sauron all but felt his knees buckle under that power. The Maia blinked and averted his gaze for a moment, then looked back up in to the scrutinizing black eyes of his very confident lord, still gazing back with a shit eating smirk for he knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I came this day because...”  
Sauron took a few steps forward and lifted his hands to Melkor’s face. Once his delicate fingers passed across those sharp cheekbones and in to the black hair that fell over his ears, he lifted his thighs to the bed and straddled him. Immediately Melkor’s hand was on his lower back, armored claws sending icy chills up Sauron’s spine and in to the fingers that intertwined with silky black.  
“... because I crave your touch, my lord...” 

The space between them was closed at his last word and Melkor was upon him. Their lips fit in place together perfectly, a Maia designed for his Valar. Their tongues tasted one another as if each were the other’s most prized delicacy, and in a way they truly were. The heat between them rose in the passion of their intimacies, Melkor holding him close now with one armored hand on his backside and the other sliding in to fiery orange waves. Sauron held his master’s face in his hands, the fear if he’d ever let go then they would be gone from each other again. But then, Melkor’s hand closed in the Maia’s hair and pried him away, swiftly as to switch their positions and be on top of him now. As Sauron’s back landed upon silk sheets, his hands fell beside his head and atop orange locks that splayed out in a halo around him. Once more Melkor closed the space, grasping his lieutenant’s hands in his own, only a fraction of his size and soft under cold, hard metal. Strings of his hair fell around them in a shimmery black curtain, enclosing them in a shadow that was all their own, one that shielded them from all else in the world, to be together, and together only. 

In a single pull Sauron’s robes were opened, slender and pale body exposed to Utumno’s scorching heat and the freezing cold of Melkor’s armored claws. All the great Valar had endured for many long months was darkness and fire and the bloodied walls of his fortress, alas now he wholeheartedly welcomed the beauty and light of the body of Mairon. A majesty he could adore as well as destroy to the pleasure of them both, he grinned mischievously and licked his lips. The dark lord then tasted his most faithful servant, kissing up and down the fair form of pearly white flesh and lean muscle. In to his neck Melkor placed many dark bruises, ones that were sure to heal by the rising of the sun but were declarations of his possession for the night. Sauron’s voice was so lovely, his moans and whimpers more than enough to urge Melkor to ravish him there and now, though he stayed his hand a little longer. He pressed his lips to Sauron’s, so that he may taste the sounds of his lieutenant’s pleasure just as he would his body. 

But although the Maia was more fair and delicate than the seasoned, mighty Valar that overcame him, he was still feared across all of Arda and he was not to back down so easily. He sat up, pushing Melkor’s lips back with his own and combing his fingers through long lines of black hair once more. When they pulled away, Sauron’s golden eyes glimmered with lust. 

“Remove your armor,” he breathed, and Melkor was hence captivated. 

He stood up without another prompt, a tall and terrible mien but Sauron had no fear, and the infatuated way Melkor looked down upon him was all but threatening. He began by lifting his breast plate over his head, moving slow and fluid so that Sauron could watch every movement, ending with a shake of his long hair as it fell around his shoulders. The rest of the layers slid off with a release of dark smoke trails, falling about the floor at his feet and scattering a mist of ash and cinders. His bare body was now presented before his lieutenant, a god whose chosen vessel was formed from millennia of war and a once-holy perfection. His flesh was designed a mixed shade of foggy grey and subtle bronze from the smolder in which he resided, decorated with many tan battle scars across chiseled muscle. Sauron’s pale white hand reached out to touch Melkor’s abdomen, following the defined curvature of each ab to the V-line at his hips. 

“My lord,” Sauron began softly, watching his hand travel lower for a moment before he looked up in to the eyes of his master. “Might I, please?” 

However the look upon Melkor’s face was not indicative of fulfilling his faithful servant’s wishes this night. He combed his darkened fingers through Sauron’s hair and clenched hard a fistful of it in the back. He so easily manhandled the Maia’s head forward against his cock, the length setting upon Sauron’s face as he urged him downwards. 

“You mistake me for having patience while in your presence, my flame,” Melkor growled, looking down at his lieutenant greedily licking up whatever part of the Valar’s shaft he could reach. Sauron’s tongue lapped hungrily upon the stone-hard muscles and throbbing veins in desperation, and for the moment, Melkor allowed it. “But it has been long since you’ve graced me the pleasure of your mortal form.” 

Sauron grew weak at the words of his master. Melkor was so formidable and paramount a deity, to even suggest that one of lesser prime such as Mairon could grace him pleasure, as if Melkor could not simply take it for his own whenever he deemed, was entirely overwhelming. Oh, how Sauron loved him with every atom of his being. 

It was then, upon looking up, that Melkor cast him aside with ample force. Once more upon the bed and on his back, Sauron kept his thighs pressed as he rose up to see Melkor getting in behind him. The god lie upon his back with his legs shamelessly apart, giving an expectant look to Sauron who quickly took action. With robes still loosely hanging open about his shoulders, the Maia mounted his Valar’s waist and straddled him anew. Melkor raised his hands to the slim hips of Sauron, soft and pale against the cracked, blackening flesh he possessed. Sauron tilted his head back and let his eyes close, and in the overwhelming adoration he felt he began to shapeshift between his legs. Where once the organ of a modest male was present, now so was the embellishment of a maiden. Sauron would take his master in any way, though with this form he could feel the power of Melkor deeper inside him than he ever could before, plunging deep in to his belly until he felt utterly consumed from the inside. And that, he would. For Melkor wasted no time in entering him, sliding in with ease from the arousal of his most loyal, the purest need for his master. And Sauron released a beautiful noise, one that filled the despair and horror of Utumno’s halls with a fleeting glimmer of music, and Melkor wanted to vanquish it. He ravished his Maia until moans were screams, intermingled in a new song of welcomed pain and absolute pleasure, and the Orcs and dark servants of Melkor could hear every note of the dark melody as they moved about the fortress. 

As the Vala and Maia continued to become one, the darkness began to close around them. Sauron struggled to open his eyes, though he could still sense the world fading from his light. He looked down, finding nothing but blackness in the space where Melkor was, but still feeling his cold hands and his length within him, never ceasing in speed nor vigor. Wide eyed, Sauron soon could see nothing but the Void, his senses were all but vanquished save for his perception of touch, and this was all the more enhanced in strength. Without any more distractions, Sauron’s physical form was shaken to its core, every fiber devoured by the pleasure Melkor pumped inside him. His cock felt like fire inside his belly, burning his insides to a crisp and pounding them apart, splitting him in all directions, yet keeping him as one. It was more than bliss, it was more than any ecstasy perceivable by mortal mind, it was euphoria in its rawest of forms. Sauron’s body climaxed, and he threw his head back and let out a scream that he was sure could he heard upon Aman in Valinor. Vanquished was he, and he felt his mortal body may fall to dust and release his spirit without form. 

Though suddenly, Sauron opened his eyes to look upon his lord now above him. The Maia found himself on his back, his body glistened with sweat. Melkor’s snide expression seemed all too proud of his work, gazing upon his lieutenant with confidence. 

“How do you fair, my flame?” spoke he, as Sauron’s yellow eyes darted about. 

“All things vanished from my sight,” was said breathlessly. “There was nothing, my lord, I could perceive nothing but the way you felt inside me.” 

“Then have I not answered your prayer?” Melkor growled, though a smile spread upon his face. “You craved my touch, did you not?” 

And finally Sauron grinned, letting his eyes close once more as a chuckle produced from his delicate lips. Melkor watched contented, for his Maia glowed with the light of Valinor when he smiled, one in which he did not wish to quash. Sauron would reluctantly return to Angband after the moon vanished beyond the edges of Middle-Earth, though he would have to look with embarrassment upon all the new ravines of fire that shattered the earth and volcanoes that erupted along the path, all from the sheer might of last night’s joyful ministrations.


End file.
